


Unexpected

by mandykaysfic



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alien Sex, F/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 22:14:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1165172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandykaysfic/pseuds/mandykaysfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock lays an egg. McCoy's an obstetrician (or maybe that should be vet?). Kirk gets to be a birthing partner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> Theodore Sturgeon wrote most of the dialogue at the beginning of this fic for the episode ‘Amok Time’, except for 26 words and all of the rest which are mine and diverge wildly from canon. 
> 
> (Should this be m-egg rather than m-preg?)

“It has to do with... biology... Vulcan biology."

"You mean, the biology of Vulcans...? Biology as in... reproduction...? Well, Mr. Spock, there's no reason to be embarrassed about that, it happens to the birds and the bees–" Kirk examined Spock’s features, trying to discern any hint of a blush.

"The birds and the bees are not Vulcans, captain, although perhaps birds would be closer to the truth. How do Vulcans choose their mates? Haven't you wondered?"

"I guess the rest of us assume that it's done... quite logically."

"No... it is not. We sheathe it with rituals and customs shrouded in antiquity – you humans have no conception. It strips our minds from us; it brings a madness which rips away our veneer of civilization. It is the ponn farr – the time of mating... There are precedents in nature, Captain... the giant eel-birds of Regulus Five. Once each eleven years, they must return to the caverns where they hatched. On your Earth, the salmon. They must return to that one stream where they were born, to spawn – or die in trying."

"But you're not a fish, Mr. Spock–"

"No – nor am I a man... I'm a Vulcan. I had hoped I would be spared this, but the ancient drives are too strong. Eventually, they catch up with us... and we are driven by forces we cannot control – to return home, and take a wife... or die."

Kirk paused, and then continued determinedly "I haven't heard a word you've said – and I'll get you to Vulcan, somehow."

"Thank You, Captain."

~

 

On Vulcan, McCoy and Kirk stood with Spock as he wed T’Pring according to Vulcan tradition. The gong sounded thrice, signaling the conclusion of the ceremony. Spock and T’Pring retired to the marriage chamber.

Kirk and McCoy remained silent as the couple departed. Kirk turned to T’Pau, barely opening his mouth to start asking his many questions, when she summarily dismissed them back to the Enterprise to wait for Spock’s return. 

Barely waiting long enough to leave the transporter room, McCoy asked, “Did Spock happen to mention just how long a Vulcan honeymoon lasted?”

Jim shook his head. “Were you able to get any idea from the readings you took?”

“Not really. It may resolve in a day; it may take a week. I guess it depends on what they get up to on their wedding night.” McCoy grinned knowingly.

“How much different could it be?”

“Well,” McCoy drawled as he considered, “he has a few different internal organs, including some sort of vestigial sac that even M’Benga hasn’t been able to ascertain what the Vulcans postulated its original purpose to be, but the physical act of sexual intercourse is obviously a must. They’re still a very secretive race when it comes to mating practices. Nobody has ever seen a pregnant Vulcan female. For all we know, Vulcan infants are probably designed in a lab. Actually, the lab option is quite logical; clean, controlled, no emotions involved.”

“You may be right. In any case, Spock will be returning to Enterprise. He made that clear before he left.”

 

~

 

In the marriage chamber, Spock’s blood fever rose. He clenched his fists as he fought for control. He needed to speak to T’Pring before the plak tow completely unbalanced his neurochemicals and allowed the emotional frenzy to dominate his cool logic. “We must talk,” he ground out.

“Yes, we must, but now is not the time.” 

He stared into her eyes. She was not so far gone as he, and he saw that they would talk, and that perhaps her personal agenda was not so different to his. He nodded once, and reached for the fastenings at her nape. Her hair tumbled over his hands when she pulled free the clasps holding the elaborate style in place. The urge to run his fingers through the heavy strands could not, did not have to be suppressed and he drew great handfuls forward to cover her chest. His fingertips grazed the native silk of her dress and registered her hair was indeed softer. He stroked the silky strands a few times then ran his hands up her arms. The fire building in her core now heated her limbs. He felt her burn. It was time. He sought the meld points on her face and found them with ease, as though this were the fiftieth time and not the first. 

Two became one.

Biology dictated the first round was his. From her face it was only a slight shift of his hand to T’Pring’s ears, and Spock caressed them before cupping the back of her head and lowering his mouth to hers in a human-style kiss. His tongue thrust between her lips. He seized the various sensations – heat, wet, soft, hard – and used them to feed his own fire, but soon they were no longer enough. 

Her dress came apart in his hands; the ingenious design saved it from tearing. They removed his uniform together, eager to feel skin on skin, suddenly desperate for more sensations, as if overloading one sense could somehow control the flood of emotions that roiled across their bond from one to the other, but it was no use and the remaining threads of control snapped under the onslaught. 

Spock pushed her towards the bed. Even without the meld he could see she was ready. The virescent sheen to her cheeks that would later spread down her neck and torso, olive green nipples standing erect from small breasts, and the same green flush at her vulva. He watched her spread her legs. When she touched herself, a low rumble escaped his lips, and her single ‘now’ was all that that he needed.

A wave of olive washed down his body and rush of blood thickened his cock even more. He entered her and together they rode the maelstrom until Spock’s flush faded. 

The respite was only brief. He was still inside her when they both felt the flush return. 

“Again.” T’Pring sank her fingers into his buttocks and pulled him close.

Four more times Spock’s pon farr made its demands upon their bodies.

In the period of calm they knelt on the bed, drinking cool spring water and eating sparingly of the fruit and spicecakes that had been placed in the room.

“I hoped to escape the pon farr,” admitted Spock, more easily to she who shared than to his captain and friend. “Had this cycle passed without an occurrence, I would have petitioned to dissolve our bond.”

“I would have accepted. In fact, I planned to contact you with the same proposal.”

Spock raised his eyebrow, indicating she should continue.

“Hybrids may be anatomically correct, but they are traditionally infertile. I want a family, the Vulcan way, not with the assistance of a laboratory. You are a legend. Gossip and rumors regarding are personal life would be rife. Neither of us wants that. Also, you do not wish to leave Starfleet and I have no desire to be a ‘Starfleet wife’.” 

The ‘hybrid’ barb stung and they both knew it, but all of her reasons were valid.

“Why then did you go through with the marriage? The bonds could have been dissolved earlier, or there are other ways.” 

“Divorce is the more logical choice. This way we honor the choices our families made and we both achieve our ambitions in a positive fashion.” T’Pring took another sip of water. “Suppose I had declared the kal-if-fee. The fight to the death. Had you died, there would now be bad blood between the House of Sarek and my own, and Starfleet would have lost a valuable officer. Had you been the victor, I would have lost my champion, the one I want to father my children.”

“You had the option to choose a champion.”

“Pah! To choose another Vulcan would be illogical. It would dishonor my chosen. To choose either of those who accompanied you – humans would not stand a chance against a Vulcan, and the damage to the relationship between Vulcan and Earth…. No Spock, this marriage and a later divorce was the most logical proceeding.”

“Agreed.”

Silence reigned, broken only by tiny rustles and quiet breaths, until T’Pring’s breathing became louder, more labored and echoed by Spock’s. The clear skin of her face flushed once more, and this time the green flowed down her neck and lower, coloring her torso.

“The calm is passing. It is my turn.” T’Pring placed her cup aside and settled her fingertips upon Spock’s face.

She took control of this next phase of the mating, using Spock’s body as he had used hers. The chemical changes within wildly excited her and she found she drew pleasure from giving in to every emotion. It was far less distasteful than she had expected. Her slight frame proved deceptively strong as she maneuvered Spock with ease into the position she could best access what she needed. On his hands and knees, head down ass up, her fingers sought the area behind his sac. A small protuberance was aready raised, excited, much as a nipple. As she worked it, the area between it and Spock’s anus swelled, and then opened along the crack. She slid her finger into this new hole, testing its readiness and reveling in Spock’s groans. She had thought perhaps the loss of emotional control would disturb him less than a pure Vulcan, but sharing his mind had shown her this was not so. The thoughts jumbled in her brain as her physiology exerted its control over her body, and she became as mindless as he had been, driven by the urge to reproduce.

Her other hand reached between her legs, to test her readiness. To complete the mating cycle her clitoris lengthened and thickened and she inserted it into Spock’s receptor. Spasms tore through her body and the precious fluid that would normally contain a newly fertilized ovum was expelled into her husband. Activated by the neurochemicals produced during the pon farr, the hole closed over and the sac at the end of the male receptor organ expanded as the embryo gestated. T’Pring knew it would be seven more years until her fertility peaked again, but she was pleased to be able to use the time to advance her career.

The process complete, they separated, cleaned themselves, and slept for several hours. Later, T’Pring would initiate divorce proceedings timed to conclude with Spock’s leave, when he would be free to return to Vulcan for the dissolution of their bond.

Spock endured some ribald teasing from McCoy and Kirk on his return to Enterprise, but it died off when he failed to respond and another mission occupied everyone’s free time. 

~

Captain Kirk half turned in his chair. Dr McCoy had turned up on the Bridge unannounced once more. It wasn’t that he had never done that before, but previously he’d always had a reason. Around ten days ago, the reasons had changed from medical to verging on ridiculous. And he used his time there to watch Spock, who, now Jim had time to consider it, had become even more solitary than usual. 

Kirk gave half his mind to responding to McCoy and keeping an eye on the Bridge activities; with the other half he considered Spock. Almost six months had passed since Spock's marriage. During this time, Spock had said very little. T’Pring was as much a mystery to Jim as she’d been since the ceremony. Spock had no images of her, and as far as Jim knew, he’d not communicated with her at all. Certainly nothing had been recorded in the communications log. He turned from McCoy to Spock and suddenly it occurred to him Spock looked…different. His hair was a little untidy, his uniform a little less well fitting. He appeared to have put on weight. He even seemed, Jim hesitated over the word, tetchy. His ripostes to McCoy lacked their usual dry wit. 

At the end of the shift, Kirk followed Spock to his quarters. “Are you all right, Spock?” he asked. 

“Captain…”

Kirk took a closer look. Spock’s face had taken on an olive cast and beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. 

“I am fine.”

“Spock.” 

“Really, I am fine.” Tremors shook his body, giving lie to his words.

“You’re not fine.” Kirk bundled Spock into his quarters and immediately paged McCoy. 

 

“What’s wrong with him,” asked Kirk, barely giving McCoy time to examine Spock.

“Now, hold on there.” McCoy finished his examination. “Spock, would you like to discuss this alone?” He raised a hand, staying Kirk’s protest.

Spock looked from McCoy to Kirk and back. “No. You may tell him.”

“Well,” he drawled, and finding there was no easy way to break the news, said simply, “Spock’s going to be a daddy.”

“T’Pring’s pregnant?” Kirk looked confused.

“No. Spock is, and if I’m not mistaken, he’s in labor.”

“But…?”

“It took a lot of digging, but I finally uncovered the information. The Vulcan male carries the fetus and gives birth, or rather, lays an egg. Isn’t that right, Spock?”

“You are correct.”

“Spock, if my readings are correct, you are due to…” McCoy trailed off. “Do you have somewhere prepared?”

“My bedroom.” Spock was breathing heavily by now. Some of the neurochemicals released at this time were present during the pon farr, to prepare the male’s body. “It was not meant to happen for another two weeks. I was about to apply for a leave of absence.”

A small incubator was set up in the corner of the room. McCoy examined the controls for a moment then turned it on. Meanwhile, Jim collected a pile of clean cloths Spock had prepared in readiness. Together they helped him remove his clothes and then supported him as he squatted over the towels.

McCoy yearned for a clear view of the opening of Spock’s receptor, but had to content himself running scans with his free hand. Kirk mopped Spock’s forehead and murmured vague words of encouragement. Acting as a birthing partner was not something for which he’d had any preparation.

All in all, the process was quick and fairly clean. When the almost black shell protruded, each man placed a hand in readiness. Spock transferred his weight solely to Jim, leaving McCoy free should medical assistance be required. The longish ovoid passed from Spock’s body and into the hands of the three waiting men. Pale, almost straw colored liquid eased the process and saturated the towels between his feet. 

McCoy quickly scanned the egg and dried it. He would have taken it straight to the incubator, but Spock reached out and McCoy placed it carefully into Spock’s arms. He watched with interest as Spock attempted to meld with it.

“She is well.” He handed it back to McCoy. “You may place her in the incubator, while I clean up.”

“I should examine you, Spock.”

“There is no need. I will be returned to my normal physiological state within ten minutes.” He collected a clean uniform and left his friends alone.

 

“I thought hybrids were infertile.”

“Usually they are, but when has Spock ever been usual?”

Kirk laughed in agreement. “Bones, are you able to tell when…she...will, ah, hatch?”

“A couple of days, a week maybe. I don’t know.”

“That’s going to make life interesting around here for a while.”

“Now that’s an understatement!”

 

END


End file.
